


Icebreaker

by OverOnTheBench



Category: Barry (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Barry just has a huge bruh moment, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Mentions of War, Past Relationship(s), Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 22:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18669964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverOnTheBench/pseuds/OverOnTheBench
Summary: Barry's fraught past invades the one place he thought was safe, without any warning.





	Icebreaker

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya. This, along with the other work in this collection (The Impossibility of Reason) are part of the same AU that @fancifulfiction and I are working on. It'll be comprised mainly of one-chapter postings like this that span a few different time periods, from Barry's high school years through the present. Some will be shorter, some will be longer - we'll basically just post them as inspiration strikes, and not in chronological order. We're really just doing this for our own edification, but if you guys like it too, that'll be lovely. <3
> 
> In this one I really tried to keep the tone of the show, cycling between the darker moments and the ridiculousness of the acting class. I hope that piece of it comes across well. Regardless, enjoy.

Barry was less prone to “bad days” now, but they still happened. Today was one of them. A sharp slam from down the hall brought him back to the surface of reality, and he took in his surroundings as if he'd never been in that dressing room before. He'd been staring at one of the ancient, buzzing makeup bulbs for nearly ten minutes. His eyes ached and bright spots popped and bounced in his vision, reminding him of...no. He'd already spent too much time there.

 

“Um, hello?”

 

Barry turned to see Nick poking his head in, spirit gum stuck to his upper lip. “You said you were going to pee like 35 years ago, Private Ryan. Gene wants us all out front.”

 

“Yeah, coming,” Barry sighed, turning back to the mirror. In the reflection he saw Nick roll his eyes and dart away, yelling out for Sasha. Barry picked up the military helmet that Jermaine dropped on his head earlier and flipped it upside down, looking inside for a name. There was none, not even a trace of faded letters, and it granted him weak relief. If he'd found a name on it, that name would have ended up in his dreams, and those had enough content to last a couple lifetimes.

 

He dodged his way through the backstage mess in the dark and emerged to sit in the audience next to Sally. She said nothing, but her arm went behind him and she traced meandering patterns at the base of his neck. She'd developed a knack for noticing signs of his heightened stress, without him asking her to. He relaxed back into her touch and did his best to focus on her and on Gene, who hopped up to his usual place center stage.

 

“Some of you might know that I've been advertising this class at colleges in the area,” he said, “with the incentive of a 7% discount, and half off the price of one ticket to any of our shows, of course. Anyway, we've got a few young, fresh bodies with us today here to audit the class, see what we’re all about - so act normal for once, please? And be nice. Why don't you guys come on up here…”

 

He stepped aside to make room for the three students as they came up the stairs, two boys and a girl. One of the boys, the shorter one with bright red hair and a sunburn on his arms, looked to be around 21 or 22. The other two, the tall, dark-haired guy and the girl, barely looked eighteen at all. They stood quite close together, leaving the other boy off to the side.

 

“Uh, I'm Martin…do we we say our last name?” the taller one asked, looking over at Gene.

 

“Please. You'll do it in professional auditions, get used to it now.”

 

“Okay, okay. I'm Martin Gómez. I'm a freshman at UCLA.” He did a weird little bow and stepped back as the shorter boy cleared his throat.

 

“My name’s Matthias Greene, I'm a junior at Cal State Northridge, uh, just hoping to get some guidance in my career, I guess.”

 

The girl stepped forward like she'd been waiting to pounce on the empty moment. “My name is Sophie Kahn, I’m a freshman at UCLA, and I want to be a professional actor.”

 

“I like the confidence,” Gene remarked as the class offered scattered applause. Barry joined in, but found himself unsettled again. In particular the girl, Sophie, unsettled him. There was no reason for it other than the coincidence of her last name, but now his heart rate was elevated and he sat up ramrod-straight in his seat. _Kahn._ There were lots of Kahns in the world, but he hadn't met any out in California that he knew of.

 

“I have a question,” Sasha declared behind him. “Or more of a comment, I guess. I think this is a bad idea.”

 

Gene sighed as if Sasha was his teenage daughter and she'd just gotten her nose pierced in her friend’s bathroom. “And why is that?”

 

“Because we already have enough people in the class, and adding three more people will twist up our dynamic.”

 

“Plus they're really young,” Natalie tacked on to the end. “I don't want to compromise the maturity of this space.”

 

Before Gene could respond, Sally huffed and turned to look at her friends. “Don't be ridiculous, guys. Learning to act means being adaptable. You don't get to act with the same people all the time in real life. Unless you're like, Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter.”

 

“Or Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson,” Barry said.

 

“You're not helping.”

 

“Sorry, um, if we could get some input…” Martin waved at the group from onstage. “I think we're definitely mature enough to be here. Like, we're in college. We're legal adults.”

 

“And we're passionate,” Sophie said, resting a hand on her hip. “Otherwise we wouldn't have shown up. Do you guys have any idea how hard it is to get a college student to show up to something unless there's free food involved?”

 

“Ohhh,” Jermaine breathed, “good point.”

 

“We want to be here and learn just as badly as you do. And if Mr. Cousineau thinks we can be here, I think you should give us a chance.”

 

“I _do_ happen to think they should be here,” Gene said, his tone firm. “And that’s how it’s going to be unless I decide otherwise. Now, that being said, I do hear your concerns. I’ve always been told that listening is one of my strong suits. I think the best thing for the group to do in this moment is...icebreakers.”

 

Everyone groaned.

  


***

  


“So I say one thing that’s true and two that aren’t?”

 

“No, Barry,” Sally sighed. “The other way around.”

 

Across from them, Sophie furrowed her brow, studying Barry with an almost clinical air. “You’ve never played Two Truths One Lie before, dude?”

 

It was then that Barry decided that teenagers terrified him.

 

“One of us should just start,” said Sally. “Um, I can go. Let Sophie guess for me, you’ll probably know. Uhh, let’s see...I have two brothers, I used to have a lip piercing, and I’ve booked nine TV shows in the past year.”

 

Ha, Barry thought as he picked at the hole on the seat of his chair. This was an easy one. Sally once had a lip piercing, yes. He knew that because there was a tiny mark just below her mouth. Nine sounded like a good number. He was fairly certain she had only one brother-

 

“The last one,” Sophie said. “I think you booked more than nine shows.”

 

Sally lit up, much to Barry’s bewilderment. “Yeah! I’ve booked ten now. And a commercial. Okay, your turn, Sophie.”

 

Wait. She did have two brothers? Barry was thankful he didn’t have to answer, or he’d be up shit creek. Maybe he had known that, but he was preoccupied. The room was far away. Sally laughed at something Natalie blurted out behind them, but he didn’t hear the joke. It was fucking weird, he knew, to be this thrown off by an eighteen-year-old girl, but he’d spiraled into thoughts of the past. A way-past past that bothered him each day, in the recesses of his mind.

 

“Alright, I think I have a few,” Sophie said. “Okay, one: I'm majoring in communications. Two, I'm from Dayton, Ohio. Three, I went to Italy last year.”

 

“What d’you think?” Barry was jolted out of his reverie by Sally squeezing his arm. “You heard her, right?”

 

“Oh. Yeah.” Barry cleared his throat. Neither of them had any idea how much this mattered to him. “I think the second one’s the lie.”

 

“Yeah!” said Sophie, smiling at Barry for the first time. “I mean, I’m still from Ohio, but I'm from Cleveland. So I guess it was a half-lie, but you still got it.”

 

That was the answer he was sure was coming, the one that left a solid stone in his throat. There was no way this day, this scenario, this girl, could be real. He was certain of it, except she was sitting there in front of him and smiling a smile he knew. Rather, one he'd known.

 

Sally began to say, “Oh, wow, Barry’s fr-” but Gene interrupted and told them to switch groups one more time before they moved back to the stage. Barry silently thanked his mentor as he was saved from hearing questions he had no good answer for.

  


***

  


Sally stayed the night. For the first time ever, Barry wished she didn't.

 

“I've heard good things about this,” she said, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth as she picked up the book on Barry’s nightstand. “ _The Four Agreements_. Where’d you get it?”

 

“A guy at work lent it to me,” Barry answered, looking past her to the ceiling. It wasn't a lie, at least out of context.

 

“Hm. Maybe I'll read it when you're done.” Sally ruffled his hair and returned to the bathroom to finish her nightly routine. Barry turned onto his side. He loved her routines, loved how she brought life to his sparse, dingy apartment and kept him away from his thoughts - most of the time. Tonight, not even Sally in all her lyrical chattering glory couldn't stop that.

 

Yes, the girl was still troubling him. For hours he'd been returning to Sophie Kahn. UCLA freshman. Eighteen years old. Had it really been eighteen years? The years since his first tour in Afghanistan were riddled with holes in his memory. Some of the holes were self-inflicted, some not. But time had marched on whether his addled brain could keep up or not, and yes, it had been that long.

 

Over eighteen years since he'd sat somewhere nameless in the rapidly cooling desert night, and burnt a letter. He could still smell the pages burning, and how the bright spark of the lighter stood out in the desolate, hissing blackness. The letter was addressed to the person who shared one too many things with Sophie. Dark, unruly hair. A smile, down to the crinkles on the sides of her nose. A last name. But Sophie had Barry’s eyes.

 

He didn't hear Sally return until she switched off her bedside lamp and crawled in beside him. Her body curled against his, smoke-like, in the dark.

 

“Class was kinda fun,” she murmured, stroking his hair. He knew by her voice she was already drifting off. “I think having the kids in there will be a good experience for us.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“It’s cool that you and that Sophie girl are both from Cleveland. Maybe you know her family through mutual friends or something.”

 

“Mm. I kinda doubt it,” Barry said. “Cleveland’s a pretty big place. I've never heard that name before.”

 

Now _that_ was a lie.

  
  
  



End file.
